


Little Thieves

by parsnips (trifles)



Series: Tales of Love, Loss, and Insurance [10]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Humor, Insurance, Post-Movie(s), Русский | Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 06:37:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3437171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trifles/pseuds/parsnips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's like caring about the injustices perpetrated within the insurance system is a <i>thing</i> now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Thieves

**Author's Note:**

> This is the world of [insurance-Bucky](http://triflesandparsnips.tumblr.com/tagged/fic:insurance!bucky). These are his stories.
> 
> Note! Please be aware that Bruce is looking at property insurance, which is different from health and which I don't know about, and in any case, ALL OF THIS IS FICTION AND MAY BE TWISTED TO SUIT THE NARRATIVE, PLEASE TALK TO YOUR INSURANCE AGENT FOR MORE INFORMATION.

So one day Bruce is sitting a little apart from the others, holding a letter in his hands and drinking his chamomile tea with a bit more concentration than usual. Steve notices, and asks him what’s up. Bruce smiles that smile that’s more a twist of the lips than anything else.

"Nothing new," he says. He folds the letter up. "When I was working at Culver, and I heard I was going to get to work on some of my super-serum theories, I thought it might be a good idea to get some extra insurance, just in case I blew up something in the lab. I remember thinking something about job security." He laughs a little. It’s about as convincing as his smile. "With all the discussion around here recently, I remembered that I still have that insurance. The premiums were being paid automatically through a bank account from… anyway. I thought maybe I might have a claim. It seemed like something worth looking into."

"And?" Steve asks. He isn’t sure if Bruce knows that insurance-Bucky is in the air duct, also listening.

Bruce waves the folded letter. “My old agent. He says that there might be a claim, but I’d probably have to go through a few rounds of appeals, maybe argue it with the company for a while… it’s just too much. Particularly for, ah, me.”

Steve nods. Bruce shrugs, tries to put it behind him.

Bucky goes missing for a week.

Steve tries not to freak out about it, but, like, it’s kind of a big deal. Bucky’s left the tower before, generally for a few hours, and usually comes back looking shifty and carrying more knives than he left with. A week, though. A week and Steve’s starting to seriously consider mentioning to the others that, uh, it’s possible The Winter Soldier has run away and maybe possibly could be on a murderous rampage.

Then Bruce calls him from the common room, his voice a little strange, and asks if he can meet him there. Now. Please.

Bruce is standing, looking a little wary and a lot confused, holding a cup at the entrance to the kitchen. Bucky is standing in front of the TV, his arms crossed and looking, well, cold and blank, but that’s kind of his thing.

There are three people bound and gagged on the couch.

"I went into the kitchen to make some tea," Bruce whispers, "and when I came out, there they were."

Bucky points to the man on the left. “Insurance agent,” he says. He points to the man in the middle. “President of the company,” he says. He points to the woman on the right. “New York State member of the National Association of Insurance Commissioners.” He looks at Bruce. “Threatening a client in order to discourage his effort to recover a loss or reduce a claim by mentioning a policy of appealing arbitration awards that aren't in favor of the insured is an unfair claims settlement practice.”

Then Bucky crouches in front of the luckless agent. “Алты́нного во́ра ве́шают, а полти́нного че́ствуют,” he says. “Be more impressive, next time.”

And then he stands, nods decisively, and stalks past Bruce to go get some ice cream from the freezer. He’s gone without his mango-coconut for way too long.


End file.
